


Blackwater Haven

by PleasantlyWeird



Category: Lawless (2012), Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleasantlyWeird/pseuds/PleasantlyWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannah is the daughter of a whore, raised in a house of ill repute. Her fate seems certain until she meets Forrest Bondurant</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scrubbing Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by the lovely Ginger Conroy. She's a goddess and I bow to her genius!

Hannah sits at the window and watches for the Bondurant brother’s truck to pull in front of the brothel. It is the same every Tuesday; Howard will come in, liquored to the gills, spoiling for some quick and dirty sex, Jack will stay in the truck because he is told to and because his heart belongs to Bertha Minnix, and Forrest will stay in the lobby, hat in hand while waiting to see if Howard will need to be helped or forced into the truck once he was done. But Forrest never picks, never disappears upstairs with any of the ladies who work the parlor.

Hannah had been born into this life; her mom was a whore for as long as she could remember. At 18 she was of age but none of the women who worked in this brothel wanted her as competition. Her bright blue eyes and flaxen hair were more than they wanted to have to compete against and so they kept her behind the scenes. The Madame of this house, Adele, was a kind and fair employer to a point. She’s never tried to force the lifestyle on anyone as far as the girl knew and she was fond of Hannah. So Hannah earned her keep by changing the bed sheets, helping with laundry and cooking. But she was never allowed out in the parlor where the men chose their evening’s entertainment and money changed hands.

Sometimes the sounds coming from the rooms is too much for a young girl to bear. Although Hannah isn’t dumb enough to imagine that it was all real she can’t stop wondering what it would be like to have someone make you feel so good that you called out their name or moaned as if you were dying. The term Adele used was someone making “your toes curl”. Lying in bed one light Hannah had tried to force her toes to curl and had only gotten foot cramps for her troubles. She didn’t mentally understand what the big deal about having your toes curl was but physically she reacted to the sounds of sexual ecstasy that echoed through the house at all hours of the day and night.

Jumping from her window perch Hannah runs down to the kitchen and peers through the doorway and into the front hall as Forrest and Howard come in. The difference between the two men is so great that Hannah has a hard time believing they’re brothers. Howard is tall, lanky, curly hair and Forrest is barrel chested, straight hair, a bull of a man. His steel blue eyes scan the room as Howard heads into the parlor to find his date. Forrest looks at Hannah, catches her peeking around the door frame at him and he offers her a half smile before sitting down on the same wooden bench as always.

“Hannah, what you doin’ there girl? You know you ain’t sposed to be anywhere near the parlor girl!”

Hannah sighs heavily and turns to Sally. Sally is a beautiful older woman with skin the color of dark chocolate. She’s a sometimes whore when men come in and want something exotic, as Adele puts it, but most of the time she’s more of a mother to Hannah that her own real mother is.

“So I guess I’m to be locked into the back rooms, skitterin’ around like a damned cockroach forever, right?” She’s sullen now and Sally comes to her, running one long, red fingernail down her cheek and under her chin. She lifts Hannah’s face to stare hard into her eyes.

“Hannah, baby. If the men saw you out there with the rest of the women they’d think you was for sale too. Ain’t no amount of money worth that. You safe back here with Miss Sally.”

“I ain’t no baby,” Hannah growls and does her best not to smile at Sally but she never can hold out on the woman. She’d been on her knee and wrapped around her finger since she’d been an infant and weren’t nothing gonna change that. “Oh alright, I’ll stay back here. I ain’t interested in having no man ruttin’ around b’tween my legs right now no how.”

“Judgin’ by the way you blaze a trail on the stairs every time the Bondurants show up I’d say you’re full of shit,” Sally laughs and slaps Hannah on her ass.

“Ow!” Hannah calls out but laughs at the same time. She ventures one more peek at Forrest before heading out to the back yard to start washing sheets.

Laundry is busy work and gives Hannah a chance to not think about being a virgin in a house full of constant sex. Physically she might be pure but she’s seen plenty of what she’s never had personally. Seeing sex in the act doesn’t faze her anymore, the idea of what it will feel like to have one of those angry looking red organs shoved inside of her scares her more than a little. But surely not all sex is angry; surely at times there is tenderness and care involved. She’s always figured that sex here in the brothel is angry because the men pay a hefty sum for it. Maybe if a person really loves someone then it’s not a hard, almost violent act; maybe a woman might actually enjoy it as much as a man.

Accidentally rubbing her knuckles roughly across the washboard, Hannah cries out and stands, stomping her foot furiously. Heading back into the house, calling for Sally to come and bandage her wounds and not looking where she’s going, she runs smack dab into someone.

“S’cuse me ma’am. Miss Sally is indisposed at the moment.”

Hannah knows this voice; she’s heard the deep, scratchy sound of it many times while eavesdropping as Forrest settled up with Adele.

Looking up and then up again she stares directly into the face she’s only seen from a distance. She takes in the full mouth, the scar on his chin partially hidden by a day’s growth of facial hair, the squint of his eyes… “By indisposed you mean your brother has her upstairs, right?” Howard had always had a thing for Sally and she was his pick a great percentage of the time.

Forrest nods, almost shyly and then says, “You’re bleeding.” He grabs her hand and leans in to get a closer look. Electricity shoots from where his skin touches hers and she gasps.

“Yeah, I busted my knuckles on the washboard,” she explains, not sure why he cares.

“Let me help you with that ma’am,” he croaks in his deep voice and he walks with her into the kitchen. Leading her to the sink he pumps the spigot handle until cool water gushes out and over her wounds. But she can’t stop staring at his face, getting an up close look at the collection of scars that are scattered around his tanned skin. She’s fascinated by the way the way the sunlight coming through the kitchen window catches glints of red and amber in his facial hair. She’s unaware of anything but the sight and smell of him; she doesn’t even flinch when he rips a clean dishtowel into strips and wraps her busted knuckles in it.

“There you go,” Forrest says lowly and Hannah realizes that even though he’s finished tending to her wounds she still has ahold of his hand. Dropping it like a hot potato she smiles at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother,” she says, trying to play shy but not convincing even herself.

“Weren’t no bother ma’am,” Forrest says and tips his hat at her, “I’ll show myself back out to the parlor.”

“But,” Hannah blurts and covers her mouth, afraid something foolish will come barreling out like it usually does. Forrest cocks an eyebrow at her and waits for her to continue. “I’m… I’m not allowed in the parlor and I would very much like to talk to you some more.”

“I’m not much for conversatin’,” Forrest laughs but he doesn’t turn away and that makes Hannah happy. She likes the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and how his lips curve, making them look even more appealing. She sees a hint of a crooked front tooth and the imperfection makes him even more attractive to her.

“That’s ok, Sally always says I have enough words for three people, she says _‘good lord chile, one day you’ll use up all your words and then what shall you do?’_ ” Hannah does an amazingly good impersonation of her mentor and it draws a rusty sounding laugh from the man across from her.

And that’s how the Tuesday visits between them began. He would meet her in the kitchen every time he brought his brother in for a conjugal visit and would sit with Hannah, would watch her while she rambled on about her day; who had been in to the brothel recently, any scandalous news floating around town; pretty much anything that crossed her mind. He rarely spoke back, only sat and observed her work while she regaled him with silly, boring trivia. He never complained; he was happy to be able to look at her. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known. She hadn’t had time to be jaded by the world, hadn’t allowed circumstance or her surroundings to color her view of things. She made him feel like anything was still possible, she was making him love her with every word she spoke, every breath she took. Every time she looked at him with those bright blue eyes she was claiming another piece of his soul and soon he wouldn’t be his own man anymore.

Not that anything could ever happen between them. He was battle scarred, years older than her and every bit as jaded as she was not. He could never be good enough for her and Forrest knew this. He felt wrong for encouraging her with his visits but he couldn’t bring himself to stay away when Howard needed to visit the house of ill repute. He tried once but found himself jogging down the road after the truck before Jack could get out of the parking lot of Blackwater Station. “You cain’t handle Howard by yourself,” is all he’d offered as an excuse. Jack and Howard both knew better than to question him.

So today as he walks into the kitchen of Adele’s, he looks around for Hannah but doesn’t see her. He hears her voice, from the back yard where she’s doing the laundry. She’s singing a very old hymn, one he remembers his mother singing in church when he was a young boy. Hannah’s voice is sweet, like a birds call, giving him shivers as he walks to the open window to look out at her. He’s rooted to the spot, transfixed on the way her chin trembles as she sings of being a poor, wayfarin’ stranger. Her arms, bare, glisten in the sunlight, the golden mop of her hair blazing in a million shades of yellow, her hands red from the hot water and her muscles flexing as she scrubs out the sin of others from the sheets in her grasp. In that moment, Forrest realizes that he has never loved anyone the way he loves this girl.

 


	2. Wayfarin' Stranger

Adele sees Forrest in the kitchen, looking out into the backyard. She can only guess that Hannah is back there and that he’s watching her. She’s seen that look before, this man has it bad for her young ward. He’s not going to be happy when she puts Hannah in the parlor but it’s time that the girl started working.

“Mr. Bondurant, nice to see you,” she calls to let him know that she’s near. He doesn’t turn to her but merely raises his hand in greeting, his eyes never leaving the scene he’s watching out the window. “You know, Forrest, soon you won’t just have to look at her, you can have her.”

Forrest turns at her words and gives her a glare that is deadly with intent. “What did you say?”

“I said she’ll be working for me soon, in the parlor and if you want you can be her first.” Adele laughs nervously and backs up a step when Forrest turns and starts walking towards her. “She can’t stay in the back rooms forever and if she wants to stay here she’ll need to earn her keep.”

“So you’re tellin’ me that girl bein’ out there on her knees in that damn muddy back yard, scrubbing the stains out of your whore’s sheets ain’t earning her keep?”

“She could bring in a lot of new customers; we need some fresh faces in here. Her mama ain’t earning anymore and her doctorin’ is costing me a lot of money… You can be her first!” Adele is against the wall now and Forrest is nose to nose with her. He takes off his hat and cracks his neck by moving his head from side to side.

“You listen to me Adele and listen good. I ain’t one for hittin’ a woman; my momma raised me better than that. But I promise you this, you put that girl to work as one of your whores and I’ll burn this goddamned place to the ground and leave you tied up in your filthy sheets while it all falls around you. She **_will not_** set one precious toe in your parlor. You understand me?”

The threat in his voice is real; Adele doesn’t doubt it for a second. She nods, her voice refusing to cooperate out of fear.

Forrest turns away from her and returns to the window to watch his heart as she sings and scrubs, not knowing what just transpired in the kitchen. Howard comes stumbling down the parlor stairs pulling his belt closed, his face angry. Forrest walks swiftly towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You ain’t done already…”

Howard leans in and whispers in his brother’s ear, telling him lowly that he wasn’t able to  perform. More often than not this was the case; the shine was killing Howard’s libido and once that was gone, Forrest would have no reason to come back here. Just then Hannah comes in with the empty basket, smelling of sunshine and laundry soap. “Forrest,” she calls, “I didn’t know you were here.” She looks past him at Howard and Forrest watches as her expression falls. “Oh, you’re leaving already.”

“Howard, you go and wait in the truck.” It isn’t a request and Howard knows it. He doesn’t grumble or even hesitate, he merely walks out the parlor door and into the sunshine. Forrest turns to Adele and glares at her, sending her scuttling away after handing her the money for Howard’s visit.

“Hannah, c’mere gal,” Forrest says, holding out his hand to her. Hannah swallows hard, her guts in turmoil because she knows this won’t be good. She takes his offered hand and he pulls her into the empty parlor, to the bench he always sat on before their Tuesdays began.

Hannah can feel her eyes welling up and she tries to blink back the tears but instead succeeds only in sending them in torrents down her face.  Forrest sees the deluge and wipes a thick finger that smells faintly of tobacco under each eye.

“I don’t think I’ll be ‘round much anymore and it wouldn’t be proper for me to show up here without cause. I know you don’t understand but I just cain’t court you, Hannah. You deserve better than me.”

Hannah starts to protest but Forrest holds his finger up and silences her. His eyes are dark and his nostrils flare. He has much more to tell her and if he lets her get a word in now, with her big blue eyes full of sorrow and tears, he’ll grab her up and steal away with her like a monster. “Listen to me. If Adele tries to make you work for her, you come to Blackwater Station. An’ I don’t mean scrubbing her filthy sheets. You ain’t meant for this life an’ I won’t have it. Forrest points out the front door and across the street to the feed mill. “You see that place? Bobby Creed owns that an’ he knows me and my brothers well. If you need me all you hafta do is go an’ ask for Bobby and he’ll get a hold of me,” Forrest’s voice takes a tone more tender than Hannah has ever heard before, “I will come if you need me.”

Sobbing, Hannah grabs on to Forrest’s sweater and buries her face in it. “I always need you Forrest, please don’t leave me alone here.”

Forrest presses his nose into her hair as he holds her, breathing in her smell and allowing himself to ache for her for just this moment. Allowing himself to feel is dangerous; risky behavior for a man thought by some in this town to be immortal. But right now, his heart is breaking with every echo of her cries. His sweet Hannah is killing him, tear by sweet tear.

“You be good now, I gotta get home. But you remember what I said.”

Hannah looks up at Forrest, her heart heavy because she knows he’s said his goodbyes. She’s bored him too often, been a stupid, silly little girl and now he can’t take anymore. He’s trying to be kind by making her think he cares what happens to her.  Leaning forward quickly and without thinking she presses her lips into his; it’s her first kiss and even if it’s to say goodbye she’s glad that it’s with Forrest. His mouth is velvety soft and at first he doesn’t react. Then she feels his hands cup her face on both sides and his mouth opens. His tongue touches her lips gently and she opens her mouth in surprise. His kiss turns hungry when she grants his access and he presses his lips to hers harder. Hannah winds her fingers into his hair and moans, understanding for the first time what all the fuss is about. And just like that, Forrest breaks the kiss and pulls away. Hannah sees a new look in his eyes; it’s hunger.

Forrest leans in and kisses her forehead and stands. He turns and walks out the door without another word, leaving her confused in more ways than one.

Hannah doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there in the parlor when the door opens and a tall fellow she doesn’t recognize walks in.

“Well hello young lady, can I speak to the madam of the house?”

“Can… can I tell her who’s here?” Hannah asks, numb but near tears again.

“Andy Rakes.”

The man stares at Hannah lewdly and she backs away from him like you would a snake poised to strike at you rather than turning her back on him. Walking into the back room beyond the parlor she knocks on Adele’s office door.

“What is it?” Adele calls out impatiently.

“You have a visitor, someone named Andy Rakes?”

Adele’s door swings open and she looks pale, clutching at her chest. “What did you say his last name was?”

“Rakes.”

“Go upstairs now and see to your mama.”

She is being dismissed and she doesn’t care. Normally to be sent away like that would bother her but right now all she can think about is Forrest kissing her goodbye and the look that had been in his eyes before he left.

Trudging through the kitchen and up the back steps, Hannah braces herself outside the bedroom door. She can smell the sickness even before opening the door and it makes her stomach turn. The sores had come about a year ago and then the rash. The rash was what had put her mother out of commission to begin with; no man would choose to lay with a woman covered in red specks, but now she rarely makes sense and sometimes sees things and people who aren’t really there. Hannah figures she’ll not live til winter and then where will she go?  After hearing what Forrest had to say she figures that Adele had mentioned something to him about putting her in the parlor to work. Hannah knows that she’ll never be able to let just any old man with a few dollars walk through the door and lay between her legs.

Hand on the knob, Hannah pulls her shirt up over her nose to help block the smell and heads into her mother’s room. Grabbing the basin she runs to the kitchen and fills it half way with cool water and warms it up slightly with hot water from the stove top. Heading back upstairs she  snaps on the rubber gloves the doctor had left for her to keep things sanitary and sets about cleaning her mother’s wounds. The sight of them no longer fazes her but the smell still turns her stomach so she works quickly.

“Hannah? Baby is that you?” Hannah looks at her mother, dazed and tearing up for the second time today. Her mother hasn’t recognized her in six months or better.

“Mama? It’s me…” Hannah cries as he mother looks at her.

“Hannah, I saw your grandmother today and she told me that she’s forgiven me. I’m going to go live with her now.”

It was the fever again, she always talked crazy now but it was worse when the fever set in. The doctors had called it a nasty woman’s disease and had given her mercury and other things but nothing had helped. Every treatment had seemingly made things worse instead of aiding recovery and after a certain point the doctor had thrown up his hands and declared that he’d done all he could. Hannah’s mother had been in this back room ever since.

The older woman’s had wraps harshly around Hannah’s wrist and she finds herself looking into eyes every bit as blue as her own. “Hannah, listen to me, don’t you live this life. When I’m gone you run as fast as you can. Don’t let no one try to own you, don’t let no one tell you what to do. The world is changin’, you’re smart and you can learn, you can do things I wasn’t able to. And I’ll be watching over you like my own mama watches over me.”

The grasp on her wrist relaxes and Hannah watches as her mother’s breathing evens out. Grabbing the basin she carries it out in the back yard and empties it well away from the house. Sitting down on the hewn log bench by the gate she removes the rubber gloves and buries her head in her hands to cry.

Her mother, the once beautiful Katherine Elizabeth Ayres is in a pine box in a pauper’s grave less than 48 hours later and Hannah is truly alone in the world for the first time.

 

 

Adele calls for the girl several times before she responds, she’s been on her knees in the back yard, the snow has been gently falling around her for nearly an hour and the pile of sheets is still beside her unwashed. The Madame has reached her wits end with the young woman. She’s no longer earning her keep and it’s only been Sally’s pleading that has kept her safe this long. It’s been four months since Hannah’s mother passed away and four months since the Bondurants had been to visit. While they made an appearance at the funeral, they kept their distance and Hannah had been so deep in grief that Adele doubted that she even knew they were there. But it wasn’t grief that kept the girl mute these days; it was missing Forrest that kept her mouth down-turned and her eyes dulled.

“Hannah Kate Ayres!” Adele snaps loudly, finally gaining audience with her, “You need to come inside, we have to talk.”

Hannah rises slowly up off of her knees, realizing for the first time that snow had begun to fall at some point and her hair was full of the cold, white powder. Shaking slightly, partly from the chill in the air and partly to remove some of the snow clinging to her, she walks slowly into the house and makes her way to Adele’s office.

The older woman motions for her to sit on the chaise; it’s a tacky piece of furniture upholstered in red velvet that veritably screams whorehouse. Hannah sits gingerly, trying not to imagine the depraved things that most likely had occurred on the spot she now occupies. Smoothing her skirt, she looks across the room at the Madame and stares at her indifferently.

“Hannah, you’ve been here in my house since you were a baby, I’ve watched you grow into a beautiful young woman. But I ain’t running no charity here and lately you haven’t been keeping up your end of the bargain. I can deal with a lot of not a mopey ass female. You aren’t able to keep up with your duties around here anymore. So let me be blunt, sugar. You can either work the parlor or you need to leave.”

“Sally won’t let you do this…” Hannah says, staring hard at the older woman.

“Sally ain’t running this circus, I am. Besides, Sally’ll have to go too. Since Howard Bondurant ain’t a customer anymore she ain’t bringing in much of anything. The both of you are just two more mouths for me to feed.” Adele stands and walks in front of Hannah, she stares down at her face unblinkingly. “You’d do good as a whore. Pretty young face, nice body, firm thighs. You don’t have to do anything but lay there and take what they give you. Easy money.”

Hannah stands and towers over the Madame, now she was the one looking down. “I ain’t a whore. And laying down and taking what the men had to give was what killed my mama, what turned you so cold. You go ahead and throw me on the streets if you want to but I won’t sell myself for you.”

Adele laughs, “And where you gonna go missy? To find your daddy? For all you know you’re a mutt-girl. You might have four or five men in your bloodlines. Your mama never knew for sure who helped make you so how you gonna find him?”

Hannah flinches, a mistake on her part because Adele sees it and goes for the throat.

“Oh, I suppose you think you’ll run off to be with Forrest Bondurant at Blackwater Station… yeah sugar, I’d think twice about that. Has he been to see you once since your mama died? No. That’s because he don’t give a shit about you. You have no idea how cruel and cold the world can be baby. But I guarantee that if you leave this house you’ll find out right quick.”

“I ain’t a baby.” Hannah glares at Adele before turning on her heels and flying up the steps to her room. Grabbing a small feed bag she’d saved from the garbage she stuffs her meager belongings into it and goes to find Sally. Running back down into the parlor she doesn’t see her mentor but instead Adele and the woman ushers her out the front door quickly, grasping at her clothes, tearing one sleeve loose from the shoulder.

“I need to say goodbye to Sally!” Hannah screams, her tears flowing freely as Adele pushes her roughly out onto the covered porch.

“Get the hell out of my house and don’t come back.” Adele says coldly before slamming the door. Hannah is on her own, in the cold, no coat and not a penny to her name. Throwing the sack over her shoulder she starts walking, not knowing where she is headed and not caring.


	3. Orie Fortner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, Orie is a real person and is pretty much as I describe her. She's a recluse who lives on the outskirts of Bybee, Tennessee with no electricity and no running water. Her hair is as long as described and she keeps it tied up with a plain white bedsheet. The cats are also a part of the story. I know all this because she is my great aunt. And she will pull a gun on you. ;)

Word about Hannah being thrown out of the brothel doesn’t reach Blackwater Station for nearly three days. It had been snowing hard and during this type of weather no one waited along the selling route; the roads were near impassable and it wasn’t sound business to even try to make the trip when no one would be buying anyway. The boys had everything they needed here at Blackwater station until better weather prevailed so there was no sense in a trip into town. Forrest hadn’t ventured out there in four months now because he knew that if he did, he’d have to see Hannah. The girl was best left alone; maybe if he stayed gone long enough she’d forget his face and find someone worthy of her.

 Jack had decided to walk to see Bertha on the third day leaving Howard and Forrest alone in the building they called their business and home during the colder months. There was no point in staying at the homestead; it was old and drafty; not nearly as modernized as the Station. Their childhood home didn’t even have indoor plumbing although that was something that the boys had talked about updating in recent conversations.

People still made the trek into the Station house in the winter but on days like this when the cold was blistering and the wind could cut through your clothing like a knife, no one came. Howard sits at one of the ramshackle tables swilling some Finest Apple brandy the boys had made last summer. The stock was running low but Forrest wasn’t about to tell the eldest Bondurant to cut back. Drinking was the only thing that kept Howard from climbing the walls and Forrest wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brothers demons; he had his own to battle with. Forrest stands at the serving counter flipping idly through a stack of playing cards. His mind is a million miles away and with a girl who smells of laundry soap and lilac water.

Hearing a vehicle pull up outside, Forrest glances at the door and motions almost impercievably for Howard to see who it is. Howard nods and stands, looking out the glass of the Station doors.

“It’s Bobby Creed.”

“He got anyone else with him?”

“Nah, don’t seem to.”

Bobby stands outside the door, brushing his boots off for a moment and then comes in. The bell attached to the door jingles and the sound echoes throughout the mostly empty room.

“Evening Forrest, Howard,” Bobby calls and waves his hand nervously. “I uh, came to tell you that the Ayres girl is missing, I thought you might want to give us a hand in looking for her.”

Forrest stands so quickly that his chair topples over behind him, the sound of the wood cracking loud as it hits the floor. “How long?” Is all he asks as he shrugs on his coat and motions for Howard to start the truck and get it ready to leave. The elder brother grabs his coat and heads out the door to the garage soundlessly.

Bobby sighs loudly and rubs his face with a leather skinned hand, “Three days is best we can figure, Adele ain’t talking. If it weren’t for Sally wailing like a heifer for her calf no one might have known at all.”

Forrest feels the cold rage start to flow, the feel of it almost comforting. This icy hatred is familiar to him and he welcomes it. “You head on back to town Bobby. We’ll be close behind you.”

Fifteen minutes later and the two eldest Bondurant brothers are headed towards town. The truck moves slowly in the thick snow and Forrest despairs quietly. If Hannah’s been lost in this weather for three days there’s no way she’s still alive. The man counts every single thing he could have done differently inside his own mind and his heart shatters at his stupidity and cowardice. He’d been too afraid to try and love Hannah, to unsure if she could ever love him too and his foolish fear has most likely cost his darling her life.

Howard clears his throat, warning Forrest that he’s about to speak and earns a glare and subtle head shake. Howard willfully ignores the warning and continues anyway. “Forrest, you know it ain’t ever gonna be right to hit a woman.”

“I ain’t gonna hit the bitch. I’m gonna tear her house down board by fuckin’ board with my bare hands and send her out of this town but naw, I ain’t gonna hit her.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” Howard tries to reason but Forrest cuts him off.

“I know exactly what happened, why Hannah is out somewhere in this fuckin’ snow, prob’ly dead. What the fuck you care anyway? Ain’t like you can do business down at Adele’s anymore no how.”

Howard opens his mouth to fire something shitty back at his brother but the look he gets from Forrest stops that train of thought instantly. It had been a while since he’d seen this look on his brother’s face, not since the shootout at the covered bridge when Charlie Rakes had been killed.

It takes nearly an hour to make it into town and the rest of the ride was spent in silence. Howard doesn’t make any turns but pulls directly in front of Adele’s cathouse. Forrest doesn’t wait for him to stop the engine before he’s out and marching up the snow covered steps. Adele greets him at the door with a shotgun aimed at his gut. The sight of it doesn’t faze him; he marches up to her and rips the weapon from her hands and tosses it out into the white covered shrubs.

“Forrest, don’t you dare come here to my place and…,” but Adele’s tirade is thwarted and her threats of violence impotent.

Forrest grabs the woman by her arms and pulls her until they’re literally nose to nose, he speaks through clenched teeth, spitting with every syllable as he pours his rage into his words.

“You just know this, whore. If one hair is harmed on her head I will come back for you and where I put your body, no one will ever find. Otherwise, if I do find her alive, I’m gonna allow you to leave town with whatever you can pack and take in one trip. But make no mistake, WHORE, that you WILL leave Franklin County and never look back.”

“You can’t make me leave…”

“You think it’s just gonna be me? Once I tell everyone what I know? You think I’m the only one who loved that girl? The whole town is going to shun you once I’m done. I control the moonshine in this town and once I stop selling to the people who do business with you how long do you think they’ll keep comin’ back?”

“Forrest?” Sally calls out from behind Adele and comes running down the parlor hall when she sees him. Her eyes swollen from crying and her hands are wrenching a kerchief. “Have you found her? Is she with you?” Forrest shoves Adele away from him roughly and reaches for Sally. She takes his hands and lets out a heartbreaking sob.

“Sally, don’t worry we’ll find her. Do you know which way she took off?”

“Yes, I watched her through the window. She went towards the west end of town. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to me.”

“You lying…” Adele accuses but she’s stopped short by another warning look from Forrest.

Forrest gives a tight lipped smile to Sally and then leans around her to look at the Madame. “You best get to packin’, this is Sally’s house now.”

Heading back down the steps Forrest climbs into the truck and points Howard towards the west. He has an idea where Hannah might have ended up. “The only thing out that way is Orie and I pray to god that she found that girl before the snow took her.”

“I don’t think Orie woulda taken in a stranger, hell she’s known us our whole lives and she still points a gun at us when we step foot on her porch.” Howard argues, not really wanting to have to confront the old woman who would just as soon shoot you as to look at you.

“That’s because we’re men and she thinks we’re bringing bad luck to her door. Just drive, Howard.”

Orie is the town’s eclectic recluse, a woman of some sixty odd years who’s never stepped foot into town. She grows her own crops and butchers her own meat. She’s been known to hunt for deer, bear and wild boar with her handmade bow. She’s a pioneer woman, a throwback from wilder times and she’s refused all these years to conform. There is no electricity in her cabin, she cooks over her fire place and she keeps her meat salted and stored in a spring house. There are always rumors about people who don’t follow the usual and familiar; people tend to dismiss them as crazy or odd. Most of the time this isn’t true but in Orie’s case it is.

Forrest can remember his mother and father telling tales about Old Orie Fortner who had never married and lived alone in her shack. She’d always had an enormous amount of cats that lived inside and outside her cabin and her hair was rumored to be long enough to drag the floor six feet behind her. Forrest didn’t know this to be fact but he knew her hair had to be incredibly long; she kept it in a bundle tied up in an old rag on top of her head and the bundle was nearly three times the size of the noggin it sat upon. She was crazy as a bedbug and Forrest knew that if she had Hannah in her cabin it weren’t gonna be an easy feat to fetch her out of there. But at least Hannah would be safe and out of the elements.

Forrest tells Howard to stop about a half mile before they catch sight of the cabin. “Listen, I’m gonna sneak sideways to the cabin. I want you to get Orie’s attention and keep her busy. If Hannah’s in there she ain’t gonna give her up too easy, especially not to two men she may or may not remember today.” Howard nods and drives slowly to the cabin, giving Forrest time to make some headway.

Forrest can smell the smoke from Orie’s fireplace and see it above the snow laden fir trees that grew tall all over Franklin County. No one had cultivated Orie’s property or scaled back the brush so making headway was hard. Forrest got mired a couple times in hard to see blackberry vines that ripped at his clothes and tore his skin in places that were exposed.

He can make out the cabin and slowly approaches the back side of it as Howard pulls into the clearing in front of it and honks the horn. As soon as Forrest hears the front door creak open she dares to look in the one window on the back of the two room cabin. Lying in a huddle of furs and quilts in front of the fireplace he sees Hannah, her face covered in a sheen of sweat and her chest heaving hard. She’s sick and Forrest feels panicky that he’s too late to help her. She’s obviously struggling hard to breathe. Forrest can hear Orie giving Howard down the road and he makes quick work of jimmying open the rear access and scuttling in quickly he bundles Hannah up in the furs she lays in and retreats out the back door. Running as fast as the snow allows he makes his way to the road, just out of sight of the cabin and calls Howard with a wolfs howl. It isn’t long before he hears the roar of the trucks engine and the sound of it approaching where he waits.

Howard stops and gets out to help Forrest load Hannah into the seat between them. From the cabin he hears Orie screaming, “Come back here with my kitty! Goddamned man!”

“Drive as fast as you can Howard. Let’s get her to the doctor.”

Forrest looks down at Hannah’s face, cradled in his lap and frets at her color. She’s not just pale, she’s bleached of color, her lips blue and her eyes moving rapidly behind nearly see-through lids. He can’t stop his hand from stroking her cheek as she mumbles feverishly. He knows one thing above all else; if she dies her blood and the loss of her sweet soul is on his hands.


	4. Andy Rakes

Forrest is sitting outside the hospital room, waiting for the doctor to finish. Howards gone to find Jack and the two of them will come back later to pick him up. He sent his brother away because he was edgy and nervous; it had been a long day and Howard is itching for a drink.

The door to the room opens and Dr. Wiley steps out. Forrest breathes a sigh of relief when the man smiles at him. “Forrest, I think she’ll be just fine. I want to keep her here for a few days, make sure it doesn’t develop into pneumonia but with some careful treatment she should make a full recovery.”

“Thank you doctor, you make sure that girl gets everything she needs. I’ll take care of the bill.”

Forrest shakes the doctor’s hand, “Can I go in an’ see her for a minute before I go?”

“I don’t see why not. Don’t expect much as far as communication, I gave her a shot to help her rest easy and to calm her breathing.”

Forrest nods and heads into the room, his eyes immediately finding her face. He exhales deeply when he sees that she has some color back in her cheeks and that her breathing is indeed not labored like before. He walks to the bedside and sits gently on the mattress facing her. Taking her hand in both of his he traces the fine blue veins that lie under her milky skin. Even after years of washing sheets that she could never truly get clean the skin of her hands looks like it belongs on a porcelain doll.

He looks at the contrast between her skin and his, his flesh is dark, rough, chapped looking, the total opposite of hers. How could someone so pure, so beautiful and delicate love someone as gruff and unrefined as him?

“Forrest?”

“Hannah,” he croaks, emotion making his already scratchy voice even more so even if his expression is one of guarded relief. “You’re safe now.”

“You found me?” Hannah is obviously feeling the drugs she was given, her eyes can’t seem to focus and her head rolls slowly from side to side as she slurs her words.

“Rest, you need to sleep so you can get better.”

“But why did you come look for me? You don’t want me, Adele told me the truth.” Hannah looks away from him, tears flowing freely. He isn’t sure how much is from emotion and how much is from the medicine the doctor had given her.

Forrest lifts the hand he’s holding to his lips and presses a warm kiss there, “Just the words of a foolish old woman who doesn’t know. You rest, I’ll be back to see you in the morning.” He stands by her bedside, holding her tiny hand in his until her breathing evens out and her eyes close. The gentleness leaves his expression and the side of him that no one ever wants to see comes out. He storms out of the hospital with grim purpose determining his destination.

His stride takes him three streets over to the whore house very quickly. His breath is hot as he pushes it out through flared nostril; his mind is full of hornets and his fists are clenched. This might be the night he throws them at a female for the first time. Forrest rushes up the steps of the brothel and kicks open the door. “ADELE!” He bellows, heading straight for the back office. Throwing the door wide forcefully he comes face to face with a stranger; but this man also looks familiar to an extent. In his rage Forrest can’t place him until the man speaks and the accent as well as the face reminds him of someone else.

“I am also looking for the Madam but it seems she’s vacated the premises,” the man says as she looks at the room with utter disdain and contempt in his expression.

“And who are you exactly?” Forrest has an idea but he’s holding his cards close to the vest.

“Oh I’m Andy Rakes. You knew my brother Charlie, Mr. Bondurant.”

“And how is your brother these days?” Forrest knows damn good and well how Special Deputy Charlie Rakes is but he’d sworn, along with every other man who’d been at the covered bridge, that he would never reveal what had happened or what they had done with the body.”

“Oh he’s dead, but you knew that along with most of this Podunk town, although everyone seems to be determined to band together and deny it.”

Forrest grunts and turns to go, not in the mood to deal with the dead nance’s brother who seems equally as queer and unpalatable as his kin had been.

“You’ll be seeing me soon Mr. Bondurant.”

Forrest turns back and faces the man again. “Let me make this clear to you. It’d be a damned shame if you overstayed your welcome here in Franklin like your brother did.” His expression is cold, harder than stone, and he holds the glare longer than necessary to make a point, only turning again when the man across from him blinks.

Stepping out into the parlor Forrest sees Sally looking out the front door. He calls to her and she hurries to him.

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah Sally, she’s gonna be just fine. We had to steal her away from Old Orie but she’s at the hospital now and the doctor has seen her.”

Sally leans into Forrest’s shoulder and lets out a cry of relief. Andy Rakes squeezes by them in the hallway and gives them a weird smile and an even stranger wave of his fingers before heading wordlessly out into the afternoon air.

“That is a bad man Forrest,” Sally says, shivering as she watches him head down the porch steps, “I overheard him talking to Adele a few days ago. He has it out for you and your brothers; he thinks you killed his.”

Forrest ignores what Sally is saying, he doesn’t give two shits about this newest pecker gnat flying around; he’ll swat him like he crushed his brother if he becomes too bothersome.

“Sally, listen to me, she’ll need to come back here, and she’ll need you to help her stay straight.”

Sally looks up at him, her dark brown eyes glistening with tears, “Forrest, I can’t stay here. Ain’t nobody gonna come to a henhouse with a black Madam. You and your brothers have always been good to me but you’re ‘bout the only ones. Even my own people shun me for what I do. I’m heading back to Mississippi; I’ll starve to death here in Virginia.” Sally takes Forrest’s hand and shakes it to get his attention, “You’ll be good to that girl. You can protect her, make sure she’s safe. She loves you…”

“Naw, I can’t… she can’t, it wouldn’t be proper for her to be living at Blackwater Station.” Forrest shakes his head no and backs away from Sally.

Sally puts her hands on her hips, the tears gone now and a look of stark determination on her face, “An’ you think her living amongst a bunch of loose women is? How long you think it’ll be before someone takes her whether she agrees or not? She ain’t got no one but you.”

Forrest comes close to telling Sally that she should take Hannah to Mississippi with her but the thought of never seeing the girl again gives him pain.

“You promise me,” Sally prods, her look determined.

“I promise she’ll be cared for,” Forrest offers and turns to walk out.


	5. Goodbyes

Forrest stands outside the hospital room, his hat in his hands, waiting for the nurse to finish helping Hannah get dressed. He’d gone to the next town over to buy her a new dress. Sure he could have found one here but he’d wanted her to have something no other woman in this town would be wearing. And she’d need more things, Forrest just didn’t know what and there was a dearth of women her age here in Franklin; not that he could imagine asking a female about such things anyway. He’d thought about asking Jack to bring Bertha but it was hard enough for Jack to see her and Forrest didn’t want to make things harder on the youngest Bondurant.

The door swings open and Forrest’s breath catches in his throat. The delicate coral color of the dress he’d picked makes Hannah’s mane of golden curls seem like a yellow fire atop her head. Her eyes are sparkling blue gemstones set deep in porcelain skin and Forrest has to look away before she sees how much he loves her. She can’t know; if she does it’s going to make what he’s about to do even harder.

“C’mon gal, I got a place for you to stay and I lined up some work for you too.”

He can hear the shake in her voice when she speaks and he knows its tears that she’s trying to hold back. “You mean I’m not coming to Blackwater Station with you?”

Forrest stops walking and turns to her, steeling himself to see her sadness, knowing he’s doing the right thing even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“Naw. Wouldn’t be right for a young woman to be living out there alone with three men. People would talk and it might make some people think bad of you.”

“And you think people have such a good opinion of me now?” Her voice is quiet and she puts her hand on his, her touch softer than her tone. “I was born in a whore house, almost any man in Franklin over a certain age could be my daddy; not even my mama was sure who it was. I don’t think people have a high view of me now.”

“Hannah, what you were born into isn’t your fault and people don’t judge you for that. You don’t know how many people in this town went lookin’ for you when you were lost. We all know you’re a good girl and that you just came into the world under a bad moon. But what you do from now on matters.”

Forrest starts walking again and grabs her feed sack of belongings. Creed’s wife had gone back and persuaded Orie to give them up this morning.

“I got you a room at Sayer’s hotel. Ms. Sayers is going to give you work helpin’ clean rooms and working the front desk. She can teach you a lot; how to work the books, how to do readin’ and math. All I could teach you is how to cook for the people who come to Blackwater hung over or still drunk. I reckon I could teach you a little about book keepin’ too and maybe how to make ‘shine and brandy…” He smiles ruefully at the thought of her pretty hands stirring mash and the idea appeals to him in a very inappropriate way. He clears his throat and takes to walking again. “You learn everything you can from her and you get the hell out of Franklin. You ain’t meant for this place, anyone with eyes can see that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hannah whimpers and he sees from his peripheral vision as she swipes uselessly at tears that aren’t stopping.

“I mean you’re a rose on a mountaintop. Cain’t nobody see your worth in this place. Look at these women around here; they’re built like men because they have to be.” Forrest stops on the hard packed dirt sidewalk and waves his arm around. “This life is hard. As strange as it may sound, you were sheltered in Adele’s house. I ain’t sayin’ you didn’t work hard but it’s tougher than you know out here.”

Forrest realizes this girl, this woman has brought more words out of him in the last ten minutes than he’s spoken in a year. He doesn’t mind at all but his brothers would be astounded to know he had this many thoughts.

“You’re too good for this place, too good for me,” e says as they walk to the front door of Sayers.

“I’m not too good. Please,” she pleads, taking his hand again, “Please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I don’t know this woman and I’m scared.”

Forrest can’t take the pain he hears in her voice and he clenches his eyes shut to try and gather his thoughts. “I’ll come and take you riding on Sunday. If you’ll just go in here and give this a chance I promise you we’ll spend Sundays together. It’ll be like our Tuesday’s used to be only we won’t be stuck in the Parlor the whole time. Do we have a deal?”

He knows it’s a shitty idea and he knows he should just do right by her and stay away but he can’t seem to do what he should when it comes to her. There’s a part of him that’s greedy for her company; a part of him that loves her even if he can’t admit it. But isn’t that human nature to want to snatch beautiful things and keep them for yourself? Hannah is a treasure but not his to steal away with like some villain in a bad novel.

Hannah sniffles and then leans into his shirt, pressing her face and her tears into the fabric covering his chest; he leans down and kisses her head. His lips feel her warmth and he thinks about sweeping her into his arms and kissing her mouth but he refrains. If he did he knows she’d be coming to Blackwater Station with her and straight into his bed. He feels himself responding to the thought of her naked and open for him and it physically hurts. It’s been years since he’s known a woman like that.

“Do we have a deal?” He asks again, his gentle voice hiding the raging surge that’s happening inside of him.

“Yeah, we have a deal. But Sunday is forever from now.”

“Sunday is three days away,” he says laughing at her youth in all its pouty glory.

“You ain’t bringing Jack or Howard with you are you?”

“Well yeah, I’ll have to, wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

“Then we most certainly do NOT have a deal.” Hannah looks at him hard, her eyes rimmed in red but he also sees determination in them. “Either you come alone or we don’t have a deal. And don’t hand me this shit about my reputation and all that. Unlike you, I don’t care what people in this town thinka me. I only care about what YOU think.”

Forrest knows it’s wrong but he agrees to save a scene here. People are watching and he doesn’t want anyone to get the idea that he’s being mean to Hannah.

“I’ll be here early on Sunday to pick you up.”

Hannah tiptoes and kisses his rough, stubble covered cheek before heading inside to meet Ms. Sayers. Holding on to the idea that Forrest will be hers alone on Sunday will get her through.

Forrest stares at her retreating form and his hand goes to his cheek; his skin feels electrified where she kissed him. He waves to Ms. Sayers inside and the gesture speaks volumes to the woman behind the counter. _Keep her safe, or else_. He turns to go after she’s safely inside, walking back to where the truck is parked at the hospital.

From a second story window overlooking the street, Andy Rakes watches the scene unfold. It appears that he has his leverage now and needs to take a room across the street at Sayers. He smiles as he packs his things and prepares to make the move. Whistling he thinks about his brother and getting the revenge he’s dreamed about on these hick rubes. Avenging Charlie has been his one obsession for two years now and he can finally see it coming to fruition. He can put aside his disdain for this backwards town and swallow his dislike of the little blonde girl long enough to break his brothers killers. If Charlie Rakes was a bulldog then Andy is a viper. He’ll strike and bodies will fall before they even know they’ve been bitten.

Andy closes out his account with the bed and breakfast before walking across the street to the small hotel. It’s not as nice as the place he just left but it is closer to his intended target.

He smiles widely and turns on the charm as he walks in the front door, purposefully ignoring Hannah as he strides to the front desk and speaks to Mrs. Sayers, the proprietor.

Hannah watches Forrest walk away and cries like her heart is broken. She’s alone in the world now, she already hates this damned place and the woman behind the counter who reeks of camphor and lye soap. Ms. Sayers had pretty much dismissed her for the evening, Hannah supposes the older woman thinks her wretched and worthless when in fact Ms. Sayers can tell that Hannah is heartsick over Forrest and won’t be worth a lick this evening. Trying to show some kindness she tells the girl she can get settled in her room and they’ll start bright and early tomorrow morning.

Hannah carries her belongings up to the room Ms. Sayers had assigned her and tosses her bag carelessly into the corner. She walks over to the dirty window and swipes her fingers across the dusty ledge with disgust; whoever had this room before her was no housekeeper of any worth for sure.

Realizing that she’s free to go wherever she pleases she decides to walk to the whore house to try and catch Sally or at least find out how to get in touch with her.

Walking through the lobby she ignores Ms. Sayers and walks on towards the front door without offering an explanation of her intentions. She notices a younger man sitting in one of the lobby chairs reading the pitiful town newspaper. She sees him glance her way and offer her a smile. The look of it is friendly enough but there is something predatory about it that makes her shiver before she walks out into the warm air.

The advantages of living in a small town are few and far between, one of the few being the fact that everything was just a street or two away. Even Blackwater Station was within walking distance if Hannah needed to go there. Granted it is probably a good six miles from where she is now but completely doable if the desire hits her.

Who is she kidding? The desire is definitely there. She had lain in her hospital bed last night and found her hand at the cleft between her legs, lazily fondling her center as she thought about what Forrest might look like naked. She had imagines taking off that damned cardigan and running her hands slowly over the bulk of his shoulders with just the thin fabric of his button down between his skin and hers. She’d been so close to something, some explosive feeling as her fingers had worked faster on her hardened nub but it never happened. She couldn’t imagine the look of his bare skin and the conclusion she was near faded and slipped away.

She wondered if he was hairy like some of the shirtless men she’d seen at the brothel. One man had been so thickly covered in body hair that he resembled a bear and it had disgusted Hannah. But then she hadn’t found the men who had no body hair every attractive either. Come to think of it, she hadn’t found anyone attractive until she’d seen Forrest. No one had ignited her sexual awakening until she’d started peering at him through the parlor doors. And that fire had only grown since she’d gotten to know him. There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind that she loved Forrest and even less doubt that he was the one she wanted to have as her first… and her only.

It takes Hannah only minutes to reach her old home and she sees Ava, one of the ladies who she’d grown up watching, sitting on the porch. The house, usually ablaze this time of evening with a lamp in every window, is dark and Ava looks pensive as she watches Hannah ascend the steps.

“Baby girl, what you doing back here?” The woman greets her with a sad smile and Hannah takes a seat on the wicker settee next to her.

“Just wanted to come and see how ya’ll are holding up, wanted to see if Sally might happen to still be here.”

“Sally left a couple days ago, headed to Mississippi to be with her people. Everyone else is gone but me. Not sure where I’m headed but the town has decided that they don’t want or need a whore house any more so everyone scattered.”

Ava reaches in to her bag and pulls out a slip of paper. She hands it to Hannah and says, “Sally had me write this down, not sure how right it is because I wasn’t ever that good of a learner in school. It’s her address so you can write to her. She says she has people who can read her anything you send. I told her I wasn’t too sure how much you knew about reading and writing neither.”

“I know a little, enough to get by,” Hannah whispers and wonders how far away Mississippi really is. The world is a mystery to her; she’d never been anywhere except this Podunk town and she can barely write a legible word. All she knows is what her mother and Adele had managed to teach her growing up and she is sure that ain’t much in the big scheme of things. “Will you come and say goodbye to me before you leave?” Hannah is loath to let go of anyone else but she understands Ava needing to leave.

Ava pats her hand and leans in to kiss her cheek, “Of course I will, sugar.” It’s a lie but she’s telling it willingly, not wanting to see Hannah cry.

Hannah stands to go and smiles at Ava before walking down the steps to the street. She turns and takes one last look at the only place that has ever been her home and says a silent farewell before heading back to Sayers.


	6. Impure Thoughts

Hannah is already in the lobby on her hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards when Ms. Sayers comes downstairs to get the breakfast ready for her guests.

“Girl, you’re up and at ‘em early this morning,” she calls out, happy to see her new employee/ward doing some labor. Maybe this will work out after all.

“Good morning Mr. Riavuta,” the older woman calls out to her boarder as she passes by him on her way to the kitchen. Andy Rakes had given a false name when he checked in to the hotel; it wouldn’t do for Hannah to mention him by his real name to Forrest and ruin his carefully crafted plans too soon. Hannah glances at the man and notices that he makes it a point not to look at her as she walks past. It isn’t something she’s used to; every man has taken notice of her since she turned 14 and her chest exploded in size. Sitting back on her knees and toes she wipes her sweaty brow with her forearm and breathes heavily. Everywhere she looks she sees dirt and grime. What does it say about this place that the town whore house was cleaner?

Thirty minutes later and the front parlor is done. She takes the dirty water bucket out back to dump it and turns her face up towards the sunshine. The warmth on her face does wonders for her spirits and so does the thought that it’s only two days until Sunday; two days until she’s alone with Forrest.

She thought without cease the night before about how to woo Forrest. She needed to make him realize that they are meant to be together. Somehow she had to force him to see how much she needed him and he needed her. She is finding that she doesn’t mind working for Ms. Sayers so much but she knows that seeing Forrest one day a week isn’t going to cut the mustard. Maybe if she can prove to him that she can work for Ms. Sayers and earn her own money he won’t feel as strange about letting her live there with him at Blackwater Station. Maybe if she can give herself to him in the way that grown women do then he won’t be able to tell her no.

Over the years she’d seen the whores and even her own mother convince men of damn near everything by using their feminine wiles and sex. One whore named Cinnamon, a woman of mixed blood whose real name was actually Carmina, had ended up the wife of one of her johns. She’d convinced him to move to a new state so no one would know her past and they could live a happy life. Who knew how that actually had ended up but Carmina had never come back to Franklin or ever even written her former friends. Jewelry, extra money, clothes… all that had been for the asking as long as, as her mother had so succinctly put it, a woman knew how to put the curl in a man’s toes. It had been a long time before Hannah had known exactly what that meant but with her recent nightly explorations of her own body she was coming to understand a little better the meaning behind that saying.

Coming to terms with these desires is as frustrating as it is exciting. She’s starting to see what the fuss was about but there was something she isn’t getting yet. The actions felt good but she knows instinctively that there is more and that she isn’t getting the full experience. Maybe that’s something that can only happen when someone else is involved. Or maybe she isn’t doing something right. Her inexperience in light of having grown up around prostitutes is staggering.

She hears someone calling to her from beyond the fence and sees a hand wave over the backyard barrier. Walking over she peers through the wooden slats and sees Ava smiling at her and holding a suitcase.

“Sugar, it’s me. I came to say goodbye, didn’t think the lady you work for now would appreciate a soiled dove in the formal parlor.”

Hannah laughs and opens the back gate; she steps into the alley and hugs Ava heartily.

“I’m glad you’re here, I didn’t think you’d come to be honest.”

“I didn’t think I would either but I couldn’t bear the thought of not telling you goodbye after watching you grow up into the fine young lady you are.”

Hannah has something she needs to ask Ava but she’s not sure how to broach it without giving too much away. Finally she decides to just throw it out there while she has the chance. There’s no one else she can ask and once Ava’s gone so is the opportunity for a frank answer.

“Ava, can… can I ask you something and will you promise not to laugh at me if it’s stupid?”

“Sure sugar. What can I help you with?”

“It’s about sex. Well not necessarily sex but about certain feelings. I mean. Shit…”

The curse slips easily from her lips as she wants to cry from sheer frustration. She takes a deep breath and tries again.

“What is the point of sex? Or even, you know, touching… yourself when you’re alone?” Her face burns bright with the shame of her question but the desire for a truthful answer outweighs her embarrassment.

“Well to feel good of course,” Ava spits out and to her credit she doesn’t laugh or even appear on the verge of it. “Sex or self-pleasure is all about just that, feeling good and coming.”

“Coming? Coming where?” Hannah asks, wondering where you possibly might go while you’re naked.

“You’re not actually going anywhere, you just sort of, well, you have this experience I guess you could call it, where every part of your body feels so good that you can’t hold back. It doesn’t happen every time, well not with men and actual sex but I’ve never failed to come when it’s just been me,” Ava says and leans back against the rough wood of the fence.

“Do you, think about… stuff?”

“Yeah, sometimes I do. Maybe I’ll think about some particularly good sex I had before, or about a man I think is handsome. Hannah let me ask you; have you ever actually had sex before?” Ava eyeballs the younger woman and smiles gently at her, encouraging her to be honest.

“No, but I think I want to. Maybe that’s why I can’t come, because I don’t know what to think about.” Hannah looks down at her feet and kicks at the dry ground and rocks beneath her soles.

“Well maybe next time you should think about nothing but what you’re doing and figure out what feels best for you. Maybe then you’ll see what I mean. But don’t worry none about it, it’ll happen. Trust me. Now listen kiddo, I have to skedaddle, I’m on the next train out of here. I’m heading west, not sure exactly where but when I’m settled I’ll do my best to let you know where I am somehow.”

Ava leans in and kisses Hannah on the forehead. She furrows her forehead and cocks her head at the younger girl. “You just make sure whoever you give it to deserves to get it, and not just the first time but every time. You’re special, sugar.”

Grabbing her bag Ava heads off down the alley and back onto the main street towards the railway station. Hannah isn’t sure that she’ll ever hear from her again but she hopes she will. Ms. Sayers calls out to her from the back door, signaling to her that breakfast is ready. Walking into the back yard, Hannah doesn’t see Andy Rakes looking down at her from his room’s window.

As it turns out, Ms. Sayers is a damn fine cook and Hannah eats her biscuits and gravy with gusto. Adele had never spared much money on stocking the pantry, cheap whore that she was, and so Hannah felt like this breakfast bordered on decadent. Ms. Sayers smiles as the girl digs into her plate of food and savors each bite.

“You can have more if you want,” she encourages and Hannah looks mildly shocked at the suggestion of seconds. Little does Ms. Sayers know but the idea of another helping is a new concept for the younger woman.

“Thanks but I’d better get back to work,” Hannah stammers, shocked at the kindness and grateful for it at the same time. “I’ll do the upstairs windows if you don’t mind and get the baseboards tomorrow so my back doesn’t get to hurtin’.”

Ms. Sayers nods and motions for Hannah to take her dishes to the sink as she takes a plate out to Mr. Riavuta, her lone boarder for the time being. Something about the man sets her teeth on edge and he looks suspiciously familiar but she can’t place him to save her life. While he’s never been anything but kind since he checked in a day ago there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with her. She watches him like a hawk anytime Hannah is in the same room with him but he hasn’t shown the slightest interest in her.

 _Maybe that’s it_ , she thinks, _he’s a nance and that’s why I don’t care for him._ She’d met more than one of them funny fella’s in her life and it seemed like they weren’t as concerned about hiding it as they used to be. It disgusted her to no end to think about a man lying with another man like that.

Either way, he’s paid his bill a month in advance and she needs the money, so nance or no, he’s welcome here. Whistling to herself she makes a shopping list for a roast beef dinner tonight. Ms. Sayers suspects the girl has never had it and wants to watch her face when she tries it for the first time.

 _Let’s see her turn down a second helping of that_ , she thinks as she jots down a short list of supplies.

“Hannah, I’m running out to the grocers, mind the front desk for me, I won’t be long.”

Hannah hears Ms. Sayers call out to her and she heads downstairs to the desk. She doesn’t know the first thing about checking people in but she guesses she can keep anyone wanting to stay there occupied until the old woman comes back.

Sitting down on the stool heavily she feels put out; she just wants to get back to doing what she knows which is cleaning. It’s mindless busy work and affords her the chance to think about Forrest. She likes thinking about Forrest and thinking about how he kissed her because it gives her that twing-ey feeling in her drawers.; the feeling that makes her want to hide away in the linen closet and try to come, as Ava had called it.

“Excuse me,” a voice cuts in and Hannah looks up to see Mr. Riavuta standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry, what?” Hannah stammers, embarrassed that she’d been caught unaware.

“I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if I might have a couple of extra towels?”

He’s staring at Hannah like he’s dissecting her. She feels uncomfortable as if he could tell she was having impure thoughts.

“Sure, I can leave them outside your door.”

The man extends his hand and says, “I’m Anthony Riavuto.”

Hannah takes his clammy hand in hers, not wanting to shake it but also not wanting to offend him either.

“Hannah,” she offers in return and fights the urge to wipe her palm on her work apron when he lets go of her hand.

“Thanks Hannah,” he says and smiles at her. He reminds her of a picture she saw once in a book of a crocodile. There was nothing friendly about either grin. He sticks her tongue out at him as soon as he turns his back and heads out the door.

True to her word Ms. Sayers is back within forty five minutes and Hannah helps her put away the groceries. She asks the older woman if she might teach her to cook since it isn’t anything that she’d ever learned from Sally. There had always been sheets to be washed and floors to be scrubbed leaving no time to learn how to make a decent meal. Ms. Sayers smiles widely, more than happy with the request. Being a childless widow she relishes the idea of passing on her recipes and techniques to Hannah.

“Now listen, after I show you how to make this roast I want you to take this and go buy yourself something nice before dinner. This is your first couple of days pay with some extra in there because I’m just so damned pleased with the work you’ve done. I ain’t gonna lie Hannah, it took a lot of convincing on Forrest’s part to get me to hire you but now I’m so pleased that I did.”

Hannah looks down at the wad of cash in her palm and it’s more money that she’s ever held in her entire life. There must be fifteen dollars or more there. Her eyes are wide as she stares back at Ms. Sayers and she feels like she might tear up.

“Now don’t go expecting that much every time mind you. I ain’t made of green but I know there must be things you need and that should help you along. I happened to notice that Mrs. Belkins got a new shipment of fabric in so she’s surely sewing up a storm. Perhaps you need a dress or some new underthings,” Ms. Sayers offers and laughs at the excitement on Hannah’s face.

Underthings… yes, that’s exactly what she needs, new, pretty, underthings before Sunday.


	7. Fanning the Flames

Jack and Howard can’t bear to be around Forrest for another minute. He’s been a terror since he dropped Hannah off with old lady Sayers. He’s been barking out orders, growling like a “grizzly that needs to shit” as Howard put it and bitching like an old woman about every little thing. Jack can’t even sweep the floor to please him and Forrest has never been a stickler when it comes to cleanliness.

Forrest knows he’s being an ass but he can’t admit to himself that the reason behind his angry behavior is his desire to see Hannah. He’s refused to set foot in town once even though his brothers had really needed him to help load the corn and sugar for the new batch of ‘shine. Forrest knew that if he’s gone into Franklin he wouldn’t have been able to resist checking on her.

She occupies his every thought; the color of her eyes and hair, the way she smells like vanilla and rose water, the sound of her laugh and the way it reminds him of the wind chimes that hang on the front porch of the general store. More than one night since he’d met her he’d furiously fisted his cock and brought himself to a conclusion with her name on his lips. Playing with himself is a sin, or so his momma had told him when he was a little boy, but it doesn’t seem like it when he’s thinking about Hannah. It seems natural and also a good alternative to taking her in his bed like he really wanted to. He knows that if he ever found himself between her legs, tasting her, he’d be so addicted he could never let her go and she’d end up staying here in this dead end town, stuck as a moonshiner’s wife and never finding out what her real potential is.

Forrest sits at the counter, alone in the station for the first time in days. Tomorrow he’ll keep him promise and head into town to spend the day with Hannah and his stomach lurches with nerves at the thought of being alone with her. Will he be able to control himself? Should he take her to church even though the thought of sitting through a service is less enjoyable than the thought of eating his own foot? He’s never been a religious man and he ain’t about to start praying now but being in a church means his hands won’t be doing things they ought not to be doing.

Forrest shifts uncomfortably in his chair, the thought of his hands roaming freely across the creamy expanse of Hannah’s bare skin makes him harden in his pants.

“Goddamn it,” he growls and stands to head upstairs. He turns the sign around to display CLOSED on the front door and locks up before trudging to his room on the second floor. No one is likely to be heading out this way this time of day and he thinks he’ll do his business and then take a short nap before the evening crowd rolls in. Howard and Jack will be out at the stills until sunset so now is the perfect time to ease this infernal ache.

Forrest undresses slowly and puts his pistol on the pillow opposite the side he sleeps on. Pulling the threadbare curtain closed he lays back on the lumpy mattress and thinks to himself that he couldn’t allow Hannah to rest on this piece of shit.

He imagines her lying next to him as he takes himself into his hand and slowly moves his arm up and down. He envisions her breasts, bared and nipples hardened as his fingers lightly tease them. He thinks that she probably tastes better than anything he’s ever put in his mouth; she’s probably sweeter than sugar or molasses. He imagines how hot and slick she would be if he slid himself inside of her and the thought has him coming everywhere, making a mess on his bed sheets and crying out her name like a fool. Just thinking about her brings him to orgasm this easily he’d probably shoot his load before he ever got near her…

He thinks about all the “safe” things he might do with her tomorrow, things that will ensure that he won’t have a chance to ruin her life. There isn’t much to do in Franklin, no picture shows even within a two hour’s drive, nothing other than some speak-easy’s and a diner or two. Maybe he could take her fishing, or there are always a million churches they could attend.

Forrest drifts off into an uneasy sleep and wakes up to Jack and Howard pounding on the front door. He’d slept longer than he’d intended to and had thrown his clothes on over his still sticky body to go downstairs and let his brothers in. They’d sneered at him as if they’d known what he’d been up too but neither one had dared to say a word. Forrest had only demanded that Jack make sure the truck was fueled up before he left to go into town in the morning before he’d headed back upstairs for a bath.

Hannah lies in bed, exhausted physically from a long day of cooking lessons, cleaning baseboards and windows and trying to understand math which she had immediately decided that she hated more than she hated church. She’s attended that farce only once in her life when she was nine and to her detriment it had been one of those Pentecostal Holy roller churches. The woman who had taken her had been one of those holier than thou busy bodies who thought she was earning her entrance through the Pearly Gates by bringing a whore’s spawn to God’s house. Hannah had bolted for the door and ran all the way back to the brothel when people had started speaking in funny languages she didn’t understand and the woman who had brought her there appeared to have some sort of fit and fell out on the floor. That had been plenty enough churchin’ to last Hannah her entire life and there’s nothing anyone can do to convince her otherwise.

Her thoughts stray from a God who likes to make people twitch like they have a bee in their coochie to the object of her affection; Forrest Bondurant of the silly sweaters and the broad shoulders. He looked bulky the way he dressed but Hannah doesn’t think he was fat or even chunky; she thinks that underneath the layers of clothes more befitting an old Pappy there was a muscly man waiting for her to discover. She thinks about all the man parts she’d seen over the years, some accidentally and others not since she’d been flashed quite a few times by the johns at the brothel. She remembers that no two were even remotely alike, some had been short and fat, others long and skinny; some looked like acorns they were so small. She wonders what Forrest looks like down there and she imagines that he’d be long and wide.

She’s never ventured lower than her center but she knows enough to realize that those angry looking appendages are made to fit inside of what she has parts-wise. Lying back with one arm above her head she reaches down and parts herself, sighing as she fantasizes that it’s Forrest’s fingers touching her instead of her own. Her own are too soft and it ruins the effect for her since she just knows that his would be rough against the soft, slick skin of her cleft. She frowns and tries to regain the illusion, rubbing in circles and thinking about Forrest beside her.

She imagines how it would feel to have the bed indented with his weight; she thinks that he would look her straight in her eyes as she touched her. Her back arches slightly as she thinks about his mouth meeting her breasts and his tongue tracing circles around her nipples one by one. Hannah can feel her brow break out in a cool sweat as her arousal heightens and she concentrates harder on imagining Forrest naked.

He would have a dark patch of hair running from his navel to his groin just like every man she’d ever spied naked. She pictures his above her, his arms on either side of her as he hold himself up. She thinks his body would be taut and his member hard. She thinks about the head of it pushing at her entrance before his hips thrust forward.

She hears the noises he would make when he’s inside of her like the john’s at the brothel used to make and the idea of her bringing those sounds out of him cause the explosion Ava had told her about. She cries out and her entire body convulses as she has her first orgasm, even though she doesn’t even have a name for what’s happening. She can’t stop the jerking motion that she’s sure looks a lot like what was happening inside of that church all those years ago. She laughs as she thinks that if church had felt anything like this she’d have been in the pew every damned Sunday.

Not even bothering to pull her panties up she thinks briefly about the pink underthings hidden in the bottom of her dresser drawer. It would be scandal for Ms. Sayers to know she’d spent three dollars on them but Mrs. Belkins had been happy to take her money and swear secrecy about the purchase. She can’t wait to have Forrest see her in them tomorrow if she can only figure out a way how.


	8. Drop biscuits and cleavage

Hannah shifts nervously from foot to foot as she peers out the front door. Forrest will be here any minute and each second is that ticks by seems like a lifetime to the girl. Its five minutes past eight when she sees the familiar sight of the Bondurant truck pulling up to the dirt curb in front of the hotel. Hannah can’t contain the squeal of delight as Forrest climbs out of the front seat and walks his bow legged walk towards her. She refrains from running out the door and jumping into his arms but it takes all of her self-control to keep from doing it.

She smells his familiar spicy scent waft in ahead of him as he opens the door and steps inside.

“Hallo Miss Hannah,” he rasps and smiles in spite of himself. He shouldn’t show her just how happy he is to see her; it’s encouraging something that isn’t right but he can’t contain the joy he feels just by seeing her blue eyes staring back at him. She’s wearing the dress he’d bought for her and someone has helped her curl her long flaxen hair into ringlets that hang nearly to her waist.

“Howdy Forrest,” she laughs in return and loops her arm through his before he even offers it properly. “Get me the hell out of here,” she whispers with wicked glee and she uses her foot to push the door open.

A low laugh escapes Forrest’s throat and he steps outside, opening the door to the truck and helping Hannah inside. He walks slowly around to his door, unable to shake the feeling that he’s being watched. He glances up at a second story window but only catches a movement of the curtain. Shaking his head he climbs into the truck and starts it.

“What are we doing today Forrest?” Hannah asks with wide eyes and a smile that fades as soon as he answers.

“Church would do us both good,” he growls and his head snaps towards the girl when she opens her door and steps out of the truck with a scowl on her face.

“Oh hell no,” she whines and crosses her arms, “you ain’t making me go nowhere near that mess. I’d rather stay here and lick the windows clean than go to church. And I know you ain’t pleased with the thought either so don’t even try to lie to me.”

Forrest realizes that his mouth is hanging open and words of any kind are escaping him. He can’t do anything but laugh loudly which makes the grimace on Hannah’s face grow darker. She doesn’t like to be laughed at.

“If you drove all the way from Blackwater station to be an ass you could have saved yourself the gas.”

Hannah stops off down the street, not intending for one second on going back into the hotel. Forrest or not this was her one day off of work and she wasn’t about to spend it in that place. She’d find something to do, even if it meant walking to Millers pond and skinny dipping alone like she used to do before her mom got sick.

She sees Forrest pull up alongside of her and pace her walk with his foot on the gas just barely.

“Get in the truck, gal,” he calls out to her and she ignores him. “I promise I won’t make you go to church,” he yells over the sound of the engine and Hannah spares him a glance before walking on.

“What is it now?” He’s exasperated and ready to turn Hannah over his knee. The thought brings him a jolt of electricity that shoots straight to his cock.

“You ain’t apologized to me for laughing at me,” she says, glaring at him while walking on down the road a little faster.

“I weren’t laughing at you girl,” he says, unable to stifle a chuckle, “you just pegged me right. I ain’t one for church either. Get in the truck and we’ll go back to the station and grab some fishing poles. Would that suit you better?”

“Can we fish in Miller’s pond?” Hannah has her reasons for wanting to go there and none of them have a damned thing to do with fishing.

“If it’ll make you get in the truck then yeah, we’ll go there.”

Hannah stops her walking protest and smiles sweetly at Forrest as she climbs into the cab of the truck and slams the rusty door. She turns slightly in her seat to face him as he puts the truck in gear and heads the opposite direction towards his home and place of business.

The ride to Blackwater Station takes about 45 minutes since Forrest doesn’t appear to be in much of a hurry but Hannah packs a lot of questions into the space of the ride. She finds out about his parents, his one former girlfriend Maggie, how much moonshine he sells in a typical week and a general idea of how to make the stuff. Forrest is patient with the girl, answering all her questions honestly, even the ones about Maggie which is a sore subject for him.

“Did you love her?” Hannah asks; her eyes are wide but she doesn’t look directly at him.

Forrest pauses, not sure exactly how to phrase his answer but he throws caution to the wind and lets his words flow freely without too much forethought.

“Yeah, I reckon I did. But it wasn’t right. She had too much city in her and I was never going to be enough. She never settled into life at Blackwater Station and soon enough she ran back to the city.”

Hannah thinks on what he says; it’s the first time she’s shut her mouth since she got in the truck. It saddens her to think that if Maggie hadn’t left to go back to the city then she wouldn’t have ever had the chance to talk to Forrest this way.

“Maybe it’s wrong for me to say this but I’m glad she left. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”

Forrest doesn’t reply, merely looks briefly at her golden hair and then focuses on the road ahead. He can see the station in front of them and he stops the truck in the middle of the road and turns in his seat to look at Hannah.

“This ain’t me courtin’ you Hannah,” he growls, trying to sound gruff and surly but he isn’t fooling her.

“Okay Forrest, whatever you say.”

Grunting, Forrest pulls the truck up to the front of the station and parks. Hannah waits for him to come and open her door and she walks up the steps with him and into the cool shade of the front porch.

“Come on in with me and let me introduce you to Jack and Howard proper,” he says and she can’t hide the smile. She really thought he’d make her wait outside while he did what he needed to do.

“’Kay,” she laughs and he holds the screen door open for her.

The inside of the building is sparsely decorated and populated with less than a dozen people; most of them have a mason jar of clear liquid in front of them. None of this shocks Hannah; having grown up in the whore house she saw plenty of early morning drinking.

Hannah recognizes Howard from the mop of curly black hair as he’s bent face down on the counter with a jar in his hand. He’s either sleeping or hiding his hangover from the sunlight that streams in meagerly through the dirty windows.

Forrest walks over to him and slaps his heartily on the shoulder, making him groan loudly.

“Howard, wake up and say hi to Miss Hannah. We’re goin’ fishin’ out at Millers pond today.”

Howard looks horrible as he sits up and turns on the stool. His halfhearted smile makes Hannah feel sorry for him and he nods his head; it obviously costs him to do so judging by the wince it brings immediately after.

“Hannah, pleasure to see you ‘gain,” he grumbles and then turns back to lay his head down on the bar.

“He’s been on the whiskey hard since Sally left town, he was really fond ‘a her,” Forrest offers as an excuse.

“Sally was really sweet on him too,” Hannah whispers in reply. She’s afraid to talk too loud around the extremely hung over Howard but apparently Forrest doesn’t share that sentiment.

“Where’s Jack?” Forrest booms as he leans over Howards head.

“Where you think he is? Up at Burnt Chimney with the preachers daughter,” Howard mumbles into the counter top and swats blindly at his brother.

Forrest grumbles something that Hannah can’t hear into Howard’s ear and then straightens up, smiling crookedly at Hannah and pulls a chair out for her to sit in.

“Have a seat gal, I have a few things I need to do around here and then we’ll get going.”

Forrest disappears into the back of the station after Hannah sits and she looks around at the dusty, grimy counters and walls. Her fingers itch to do something useful; even when she was grieving her mother she didn’t remain idle. Howard moans lowly beside her and it makes her heart ache for the man. He’d lost weight since she’d taken notice of him and Forrest at the whore house and he also had a sickly yellow tint to his skin.

“Howard, maybe you should eat something,” she says in a quiet voice. She always had made biscuits and milk gravy for her mother and the other ladies when they’d imbibed a bit too much. It had always helped with their recovery.

“Ain’t nothin’ here to eat and I don’t know how to cook anyhow,” he grumbles and she can see the sweat beaded up on the side of his head from where she sits.

Without thinking she hops off the stool and around the counter. It doesn’t take her long to realize where things are and she finds some salt pork, some milk in the cooler and all the ingredients she needs to make drop biscuits and gravy. Buttermilk biscuits would be better but drop biscuits are quicker. Thankfully Forrest has an electric oven instead of the wood oven she’d been forced to cook on at Adele’s.

Howard’s interest is piqued when she starts frying the salt pork in an iron skillet and he lifts his head enough to watch her work. She knows she’ll have to water the fat down greatly because the gravy will be too salty otherwise but she gets the meat cooking and then starts on the bread.

Her hands feel good working in the dough and she starts humming I’ll Fly Away. Even though she’s no church goer she’s always loved the hymns because they’re what her mother had sang to her as a child. I’ll Fly Away has always been a favorite of hers because she’s always imagined that one day she would fly away from the place she grew up in and become something more than just the daughter of a whore.

Dropping the dough onto a rough looking baking sheet she pops the bread into the oven as Forrest reappear from the back.

“What’s goin’ on out here?” He calls out with a smirk on his face.

“Your poor brother is wastin’ away to nothin’ and he needs some food in his belly to ease that ache in his head,” Hannah calls back with more than a little sass in her voice as she flips the pork in the skillet, “It won’t take me long to make some gravy to go with these biscuits, the fish’ll still be there.”

Forrest sits in the seat next to Howard and watches Hannah work. He’s content to look at her as she makes a meal out of the meager things they had in the cooler and cabinets. She looks a little too much at home behind his counter and the idea gives Forrest a pang that registers somewhere between joy and panic. He shouldn’t be thinking these things about Hannah.

Hannah reaches across the counter and replaces the jar of moonshine that Howard had been clutching with a glass of cool water. When he starts to protest she cocks an eyebrow at him and gives him a look that dares him to say a word to her. Forrest laughs at the silent exchange and Howard sits up straight and smooth’s his unruly hair with one dirty hand before sipping the water like its poison.

Hannah calls out to the other men to come to the counter if they want some food. She doesn’t have it in her heart not to offer what she’s made to them as well even though she’s not sure she’ll have enough for all of them. Thankfully only three meander her way and belly up to the counter.

Removing the pork from the pan she adds the flour and water to the fat, whisking swiftly and browning the roux before adding the milk. The gravy is done at the same time the biscuits brown to perfection. She smiles as Forrest comes around the counter and grabs a stack of plates out of the cabinet above the sink and the quickly gets out of her way. She plates the biscuits, gravy and slices of the pork for everyone who wants to eat, including herself.

Howard takes the first bite with trepidation but then digs in with gusto like he hasn’t eaten in a week. As far as Hannah knows it might have been longer than that since he’s eaten anything real. Forrest doesn’t say anything as he tucks into his plate but grunts of appreciation seem to follow each bite and she plates a second helping for him and Howard before anyone else has finished their first. It’s not her best meal ever but she’s pretty proud that she came up with this from what little she had to work with.

The three strangers who ate slap money on the counter and thank Hannah for the food. One comments that it’s nice to have a decent meal at Blackwater again and that Forrest should hire Hannah and fire Jack who, according to the man, “cain’t boil water for burning it,”.

Forrest remarks that Hannah already has a job and drops the subject, his glare discouraging anyone from further remarks.

“Howard can clean up this mess,” he says as he motions with his head that it’s time to go, “We gotta get out there before it gets too hot and the fish stop biting. Hannah drops the towel and double checks that the stove top and oven are off before following Forrest out the door and into the bright sunshine.

“Wait, Forrest, do you think I could borrow some britches and a shirt? This dress is so nice I don’t want to mess it up with worm guts and fish smell,” Hannah laughs and twirls to show off the flare of the skirt.

“I reckon Jack might have something that won’t be too awful big for you.”

Hannah follows him back inside and up the steps to where the Bondurant boys sleep. She peers into each room as she passes them and she sees nothing but mattresses on the floor and a few belongings tossed here and there. Sparse doesn’t begin to describe how they live, she thinks to herself. But still, she’d trade the comfortable bed at Ms. Sayers in a heartbeat to be under the same roof as Forrest.

The man in question disappears into what must be Jacks room and comes out quickly with some knee britches and a white button down shirt.

“You can change in there,” he says and a point to what she already knows is the bathroom.

She takes the clothes from him and slides through the doorway, her heart beating a mile a minute. Hannah closes the door and pulls the dress over her head, staring at herself in the yellowed and cracked mirror that hangs over the wall. The pink underwear looks bright against her milky pale skin and she blushes to think that if she has her way then Forrest will see her just like this today.

She slides the shirt on first and buttons all but the two top buttons, showing more of her chest than is proper. She pulls the two highest buttons off and hides them in the corner of the bathroom before sliding the britches on. She has to roll them at the waist to keep them up on her hips and the overall effect isn’t bad. She bundles her long hair into a librarians knot on top of her head and secures it with the ribbon from the waist of her dress before pulling her shoes back on. Stepping back into the hallway she realizes that Forrest must have gone back downstairs so she follows in his path and finds him out in the sunshine, loading the poles, bait and tackle boxes into the back of the truck.

He glances at her and his gaze immediately goes to her chest.

“You’re missin’ some buttons,” he growls and Hannah pulls the shirt together in mock modesty.

“I know, they’re gone,” she says and lowers her eyes to the ground, not wanting him to read the truth that she’d ripped them off in her expression.

“Lemme go get you another shirt,” he offers but she stops him.

“Times wastin’ and it’s just gonna be me and you out there so don’t worry about it. I’ll take the shirt home with me and mend it. I have my dress and I can change in the woods before you take me home,” Hannah explains and hops into the truck before he can say anything else.

Forrest finishes loading their stuff and thinks about what he’d seen; a flash of pink amidst that pale canyon of flesh, something that sends his imagination into overdrive and his cock twitching in his pants. This girl is going to be the end of him and he finds that he doesn’t mind that thought as much as he should.


	9. Shame and custard

Nothing can make Hannah feel more alive than sunshine and the smell of the great outdoors. Well nothing except the sight of Forrest Bondurant mere inches away from her with no shirt on. She’d been speechless when the sun had proven to be too hot for his long sleeves and he’d stripped bare from the waist up. His skin is a lovely tanned shade and she marvels at the muscles in his neck, shoulders and back that are normally hidden from view with all his bulky clothes. Her imagination in the dark of her room at night had not done him justice. She’d never seen anything like him before. Her eyes have a hard time not traveling conspicuously lower and imagining what his naked ass might look like or wondering if that tan extends below his waist line.

Rolling the britches up higher on her thigh she wades calf deep into the pond and sighs contentedly as the cool water brings her temperature down immediately. She’s been swimming here enough times to know that leeches aren’t an issue and the pond is spring fed so there’s no problem with stagnancy. Hannah casts her line like a pro; having been fishing for recreation since she could walk. She’s never been a squeamish sort so she truly enjoys the sport. She’s hoping to catch enough catfish so that she can cook the Bondurant boys a proper dinner and extend her evening out with Forrest. Within minutes she’s hooked three good sized fish and laughs gleefully as she puts them on the stringer.

“Gee Forrest, you better get busy or you’ll never catch up!” She’s teasing him but she knows somewhere it picks at his pride and she takes a certain wicked joy in that.

“Don’t you worry none about me, missy, I’m bidin’ my time and waitin’ for the big one. One that’ll weigh more than all yours put together,” Forrest grumbles but he’s smiling as he says it. Everyone knows the legend of Early Calvin, the monster catfish of Millers Pond. Hannah doesn’t think he really exists and even if he did he’d have to be at least 50 years old since the legend has been spreading since that long ago. She isn’t sure that a fish can live that long but she’s pretty positive that it Early Calvin hadn’t actually eaten Crazy Orie’s baby like everyone says.

“Good luck with that,” she sniggers and hooks another one right away.

They had stopped at the grocers on the way out and Forrest had bought lunch for them, just a couple of bologna sandwiches, a couple peach Nehi’s and Moon Pies. Hannah loves the idea of a picnic with Forrest; she can’t wait to watch his mouth again as he eats. The sight of his jaw chewing and his lips puckering around his fork this morning had almost been more than she could bear. She decides that she’ll wait until after lunch to put her plan into motion.

Leaning her pole against a makeshift prop fashioned from a forked tree branch, she walks out of the water and lies back on the soft grass. She pulls her borrowed shirt up, exposing a nearly indecent amount of her stomach to the sun. Stretching like a cat she moans a little louder than necessary in a blatant attempt to get Forrest to look at her. She’s not sure if it works since the brightness of the sun forces her to keep her eyes closed. She hears the rustling of the grass next to her and senses the shadow above her through her closed lids.

She opens her eyes to see Forrest looming above her.

“Whatchu trying to do?” He asks, his arms hanging at his side and a decidedly large bulge protruding from the front of his pants.

“What do you mean?” She asks coquettishly and lifts her arms above her head to make her belly even tauter.

He doesn’t say anything else and Hannah smiles up at him but her insides are shaking like a screen door in a wind storm. She reaches her trembling hands up and works on the remaining buttons, slowly baring her chest to him as the shirt falls softly to either side of her chest. His eyes take in the sight of her in the lacy pink brassiere and he shakes his head slowly from side to side.

“No Hannah, it ain’t right…” but his actions betray his words; he kneels beside her even as he says it and runs his hand softly across the curves of her breasts as they push against the lacy fabric. She shivers and arches up into his touch.

“It ain’t wrong,” she whispers, her voice shaking with nervousness and desire. She sits up slowly and reaches her hand out, brushing the front of his britches with her fingers and he jerks like he’s been shocked.

“No,” he says again but she doesn’t listen. Her finger trails from the center of his pants up his bare chest; she collects a drop of sweat from his skin and places it in her mouth, sucking on her finger in what she hopes is a seductive way.

“Love me, Forrest,” she pleads and shimmies out of the shirt entirely. She pulls one side of the bra down and exposes her breast to him, watching his face for any sign that her efforts are working. Originally she’d planned to “accidentally” fall into the pond and then have to strip to her underwear while the clothes dried but this plan seemed more likely to work in her mind.

Taking her finger from her mouth she puts it to Forrest’s lips and pushes it against them softly. She sighs when his mouth opens and he takes her finger inside the moist heat there. He sucks gently, his eyes never leaving hers. She can still see doubt in his expression but she’s thrilled that he’s played along this far. She takes her finger out of his mouth, the digit slick with his saliva and runs it around her exposed nipple. He groans at the sight of her body hardening in response and pushes her back gently onto the grass. Lying down next to her and propping up on his elbow he pulls her face to his and kisses her hard. There’s nothing gentle about this kiss; not like their first and only previous kiss. There is urgency, a hurried need behind the action and she moans into his mouth with desire. He breaks the kiss and moves his attentions to her breast, sucking the still hardened peak and circling it with his tongue. Hannah gasps at the contact, her center throbbing with desire and she grabs his free and hand pulls it to where the ache is worst, whimpering for him to make contact there.

Forrest doesn’t disappoint her; his fingers hone in on the right spot and he rubs gently. Hannah’s body goes into overdrive and she comes hard from the brief contact.

“Forrest,” she cries and her hips jerk crazily into his touch. Without warning he moves away from her and stands up.

“I think we should go now,” he says brusquely and starts to pull his shirt on. Hannah is dazed; she looks to him because she’s just had the singularly most amazing experience of her life and now Forrest is treating her like a leper. What has she done so wrong that he won’t even make eye contact with her now?

Shame colors her face and the tears flow silently as she pulls the bra up to cover herself. What he must think of her and the way she came on to him like a common guttersnipe. She walks into the woods and pulls the dress on before using the shirt to dry her feet off and putting her shoes on. She hands the clothes wordlessly to Forrest and starts the short walk back into town. Forrest doesn’t come after her and she has an hour that feels like an eternity to get all her tears out before facing Ms. Sayers.

Her feet are heavy but still lighter than her heart. She’s proven herself to be no better than the women at Adele’s and not as smart. At least they got paid for what they did; she was all too anxious to give it away for free due to some mistaken feeling of love for a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t reciprocate. She cries out loud as the solitary road winds a drunkard’s path back into town; her heart feels beyond broken and she doesn’t care to try and hide her despair, not yet anyway. Anyone who might happen upon her in this state could assume a number of things but might never guess the true nature of her distress

Andy Rakes watches her approach from his second story window and smiles at the downtrodden way she walks the street home. Apparently her day out with Mr. Bondurant hadn’t been a good one; he sees his opportunity and it’s golden. There is nothing more vulnerable than a heartbroken young girl and he knows how to play the perfect Romeo.

Finding Ms. Sayers quickly he makes a request for custard as dessert knowing she’ll send Hannah to the grocers to buy the ingredients while she prepares dinner. He waits until he hears Hannah trudge up the stairs before sliding out the back door and into the alley.

Walking to the far end of town he finds Wally Thibodeaux, a transplant from Louisiana with a drinking problem and no qualms about perpetrating certain crimes for pay. Andy hands over a small roll of bills and tells the man to be in the place they’d agreed on in less than an hour. He describes what Hannah is wearing and tells him to make it believable.

All he has to do now is wait for the girl to make her way to the grocers and his plan will be set into motion. The hardest part, swallowing his disgust and making his interest in her well-being seem real is yet to come but the desire to avenge his brothers murder assures him that he’ll be able to follow through.

 

Hannah is in no mood to do a damned thing on her day off but now that she’s entirely dependent on this job for a place to live she takes the list from Ms. Sayers and stomps off towards the store. The sky is darkening early, she can smell and impending storm in the air; storms used to comfort her but right now it seems like the weather is determined to match her mood. Her emotions are like a cyclone tearing through her and she stomps harder with every step she takes until her movements are rattling her teeth.

What the hell is so wrong with her that Forrest didn’t want her? She knows she’s pretty; she’s been told so her entire life. Did he think she wasn’t good enough for him? Is it because she’s the daughter of an unclean woman or the fact that she doesn’t know who her daddy is? All that bullshit he talked about her being too good for this place and too good for him, it was all a smoke screen. What he’d actually been trying to tell her is that he wasn’t interested and she didn’t pick up on it. She feels the hot prickling of tears again but pushes them back, allowing herself to get angry instead.

Hannah doesn’t look at the clerk as she selects the things Ms. Sayers asked for and doesn’t respond when he wishes her a good evening after he tallies everything for the tab. She grabs the satchel off the counter and storms out the door. Her mind is full of things she wants to say to Forrest. She wants to ream him, tell him that he’s not so great or so handsome that he’s out of her league. And she wants to ask him why a man his age is single, why he hasn’t married and started a family. There must be something wrong with him, she tells herself but she doesn’t buy any of it really. It’s pure anger and shame talking and no matter how loud the voice in her head screams she can’t agree with her own inner thoughts. Forrest is perfect and she’s the one who is flawed to the point of being unlovable.

Her eyes water and she swipes at them with the back of her hand, never seeing the fist that flies at the side of her head and knocks her to the ground. She’s too dazed to do anything as her attacker drags her slack form into the alley and slaps her repeatedly until her nose gushes blood and her teeth feel loose in her mouth. She shakes her head, trying to dodge the next blow and then feels a hand up under her dress. The violation spurs her into action and she starts to fight back.

She looks up with double vision but the sun in low in the sky and behind her attacker, leaving his face a dark spot and unrecognizable.

“Give me your cunt, whore,” the man says, his accent pronounced but unrecognizable.

Suddenly he would-be rapist is pulled backwards and thrown into the street. She can see that a bandana covers his face before he turns and runs away, laughing.

She tries to identify her savior but her vision is growing dark, she can feel she’s about to pass out and she reaches up to clutch at the person hovering above her.

“Forrest?” Hannah whimpers before everything turns black.


	10. Baby brother's truth

Hannah discovers as she rouses that she can only open one of her eyes and her vision in the one she can open is very blurry. She can hear voices and she recognizes one as the doctor who treated her for her hypothermia and near-pneumonia and the other as Ms. Sayers.

“No, it doesn’t appear she was violated that way but it seems that was his attention, according to the man who saved her, Mr. Riavuto.”

“Yes, he’s one of my boarders, well, my only current one. That poor girl, as if she hasn’t been through enough in her life. I suppose I should let Forrest know what’s happened.”

“No,” Hannah says from her bed loud enough for them to hear, “You don’t tell Forrest a damned thing about this. I’m neither his business nor his concern.”

Hannah pushes herself up in the bed and feels like her head weighs a ton. Every part of her face throbs and she lets one sob escape before she gathers herself.

“The man who did this to me, I couldn’t see his face but, I know he ain’t from around here, he had a funny accent. I couldn’t tell you where it’s from but I know it ain’t local.”

“There’s only one man in Franklin I know of that’s not from here or at least somewhere close and that’s Wally Thibodeaux. I’ll call the law and have them round him up. I mean it ain’t much to go on, for all we know it could have been a drifter; seems we get a lot of them these days, but she might be able to identify him by his voice.”

The doctor leaves the room and Hannah spends the next half hour reassuring Ms. Sayers that it isn’t her fault and that she’ll be fine in a few days. She refuses to answer any questions about Forrest or what happened that day telling Ms. Sayers that they had decided not to talk anymore and leaving it at that.

The doctor releases Hannah that evening since she doesn’t have the money to pay for an overnight stay and there is no one stepping up to help her out like Forrest had before.

Hannah cringes every time she even thinks his name. She involuntarily recalls every detail of his rejection over and over in her mind like a picture show and it sends her into fits of weeping. She mourns him like he’s died even though he’s only a few miles down the road. He might as well be in a foreign country now; Hannah knows she’ll never see him again unless it’s in passing. She’s ruined it all by portraying herself as a common slut. _I guess the apple doesn’t ever fall far from the tree_ , she thinks to herself as she limps down the sidewalk to the hotel with Ms. Sayers helping her keep her balance.

People who pass either look away immediately when they see her beaten face or they bear such expressions of pity that Hannah wants to scream. Pity is one thing she cannot stand, especially when it’s pity for her. She cries with relief when they reach the hotel and she walks inside and away from everyone. She’s ready to head upstairs and have a hot bath before settling into bed and taking a few of the pain pills the doctor had been charitable enough to send home with her.

“Are you going to be ok?”

It’s the voice of the man who saved her; the one she’s been avoiding here at the hotel because he gave her the heebie jeebies.

“I’ll be fine,” she snaps, tired of people being intrusive but then she feels bad because this man HAD saved her virtue if not her life. Who knows what her attacker had been capable of? She turns away from the stairs and towards the parlor where he sits, his hat in his hands. The look of utter smarmy weirdness she remembers has been replaced by what she takes as genuine concern. She doesn’t see pity there and that makes her feel better.

“I’m sorry to sound rude, especially after what you did for me. I’m just really tired and I hurt.”

“Can I help you to your room?”

Hannah senses no underlying motives in his offer but she declines just the same.

“My legs are fine,” she laughs ruefully; “it’s my face and my head that are giving me all the trouble. But thanks just the same.”

By the time she reaches the top of the stairs she is so exhausted that she decides to skip the hot bath and head straight for the medication and the bed.

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Forrest sits at the counter at Blackwater Station and stares at the plate of mysterious, burned whatever that Jack has just placed in front of him. The smell alone would peel paint but the look of it makes Forrest’s stomach lurch and he pushes it back at his younger brother.

“I don’t know what in the hell that is Jack but I oughtta smack your face for even tryin’ to feed it to me.”

“Just tryin’ to make somethin’ different is all,” Jack mumbles and takes the plate away. Forrest can tell he’s hurt his brothers feelings; seems like he’s gotten real good at that lately. He’s replayed the previous day’s events repeatedly since he made it back to the station last night. Surely if Hannah hadn’t made it back ok Ms. Sayers would have gotten word to him. He just hadn’t had the heart to follow the girl and take her home; the sight of her blue eyes crying had been too much for him to bear.

His body had wanted to take hers so badly but it was wrong. He’s too old for her; too jaded and to have taken her would have been to ruin her. It would have been soiling her with his reputation and with the life he leads. She’s meant for more than this shit town and his life.

The selfish part of him knows he could probably make her happy but a dog on a leash is happy because he doesn’t know what it’s like to run free. Depriving her of the life she might have elsewhere is never going to be ok, even if she doesn’t know what’s out there enough to miss it.

Howard comes stumbling in the door and plops heavily onto the stool next to Forrest. The oldest Bondurant slaps him on the back and smiles.

“What?” Forrest growls, sure it’s more than the stump whiskey making his brother grin so widely.

“I just figured you’d been in a better mood today.”

“And why would that be?”

“Well, didn’t you finally wet your willy yesterday?”

The suggestive tone of his voice combined with the sour smell of his whiskey breath coupled with the thought of Howard imagining him doing that to Hannah is too much. Forrest grabs Howard by his neck and has him on the floor, beating his face within seconds.

“You don’t talk about Hannah…” Forrest is in a rage as he pounds Howards face with his fist. Howard is either too drunk or too caught by surprise to do anything but lay there.

Jack is useless as he tries to pull his brothers apart and finally three of the Blackwater regulars manage to help him get Forrest away.

“What the fuck Forrest?” Jack pants as his brother shrugs off the men who try to hold him back.

“Ain’t neither one ‘a you got shit to say about Hannah and me? Got it?”

Howard stands and runs his jaw, not willing to take anymore fists from his brother so he says nothing, choosing instead to head out of the station to god knows where.

“I don’t know what happened Forrest,” Jack says and holds his hands up when Forrest turns towards him with his fists raised, “but we’re your family and there ain’t nothin’ more important than blood. Remember you’re the one who tol’ me that.”

Forrest lowers his fists and glares at his brother. He’s pissed that the youngest Bondurant is using his own words against him.

“That might be true but I ain’t listening to nobody talk bad about that girl, she ain’t nobody’s business.”

Forrest looks around at the mess left from his skirmish with Howards and he starts to clean up the broken glass. “Grab the mop, Jack.”

The two brother’s work in silence and the station clears out pretty quickly. No one wants to be on the receiving end of Forrest’s ire so the customers all scatter. Soon enough they have the station set to rights and Jack sits quietly beside his brother.

“Jack,” Forrest says then hesitates. He’s not sure how to broach the subject with his brother but he figures if anyone might understand how he’s thinking it would be Jack. “Do you ever feel like you’re doing the wrong thing by courtin’ Bertha? Like maybe you’re taking her away from something better?”

Jack sits back on the stool, not able to hide the surprise on his face. His brother is a man of very few words and has NEVER asked him anything like this. He takes his time and really thinks about his words before answering.

“The thought has crossed my mind before. Almost like I’m corruptin’ her, takin’ her away from a straight church life. But who am I to tell her what she should feel? She loves me like I love her and if I stopped courtin’ her I’d be making the decision for us both. I try to always take into account what she feels and what she wants. She says she wants me and I want her. I figure if God wanted it otherwise he never woulda seen fit for us to meet. An’ truth is, now I see it as she makes me a better man instead’a me making her less of a good woman.”

Forrest smiles at the words coming from his little brother. Truth be told he’s always underestimated Jack and never given him enough credit where it’s due. It’s wisdom he’s hearing now from Jack and he’s sure that Bertha Minnix is due credit for that.

There’s honestly in the fact that he’s made a lot of decisions for Hannah even though she’s a grown woman and shown more than once that she feels deeply for Forrest. What right does he really have. And when he thinks about it, it’s been more his fear of letting himself feel that deeply and openly for someone that has him shying away from her than any honest intent of making sure she has better than him. And since he’s being so true and raw with himself at the moment he has to recognize how deeply he’s hurt this girl; so deeply that he might not ever be able to make it right.

“Forrest, I ain’t trying to get in your business so please don’t take it this way. But Hannah is a fine woman and you’re a good man. I don’t see no reason why you shouldn’t court her if you feel that way.”

Forrest only grunts in reply and Jack takes that as his sign to head out to Burnt Chimney for the day. Bertha’s mom and dad will be planting while Bertha tends the animals so it’s a good chance for him to spend some time with her without her daddy coming after him.

Forrest heads upstairs after locking the station. He has some serious thinking to do about how he should handle things with Hannah. He feels such sadness when he thinks about what she must have felt like after he let her go walking back into town.

“If there’s a way for me to shit things up, I’ll find it,” he mutters to himself as he ascends the stairs.


	11. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a losing fight but he still wins...

The tapping on the door is so light that Hannah ignores it easily at first. But then the rapping noise becomes louder and more insistent and Hannah struggles to sit upright. Her head throbs like there’s a thunderstorm inside of her skull and she is near tears as she barely manages to call out a greeting.

“Yeah?” she says near whisper.

“It’s me,” Mrs. Sayers calls out lightly as she opens the door. “I brought you some bread and broth. You need a little something on your stomach before I can give you these pain pills.”

Hannah nods and shifts to lean against the iron rail head board of her bed. She’d managed to clean the dirt off of herself and change into a nightgown. She wondered what her face looked like but was too chicken to look in the mirror. As bad as she felt she must look like a monster.

Mrs. Sayers clicks her tongue as she looks at Hannah’s face and presses a pill to her lips. Obviously the child was in pain and needed it. “Poor baby girl, I can’t understand why someone would want to hurt you like that.”

Hannah laughs ruefully as she swallows the pill without liquid. She’s already looking forward to the relief she knows is coming.

“Isn’t that was life is?” Hannah whimpers as her tears sting the still fresh wounds, “Just one big hurt after another?” She tries to swallow the offered spoon of broth but the smell turns her stomach and she chokes on it

The sound of crashing boot steps coming up the stairs has the two women staring at the door in fright. Like a freight train is pushing through the door frame splinters as Forrest kicks the door open without turning the handle. He stares hard at Hannah’s face as his expression is one of pure anger. His nostrils flare and his fists clench until his knuckles turn white.

“Forrest!” Mrs. Sayers starts to protest but she’s shut down by one raised finger and a look of warning.

“Hannah,” he croaks, “Who did this to you?”

He takes in the damage. Her right eye is completely swollen shut and her left eye is red from burst blood vessels. She has scrapes on her nose and chin and a very obvious knot on her forehead. She must be in incredible pain. His stomach churns with anger. Some mother fucker is about to pay the check for this.

Hannah turns her face away, not wanting to suffer his stare anymore. She doesn’t answer but shakes her head instead.

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU? And why did I find out about this secondhand from Bobby Creed instead of YOU?” He says and glares at Mrs. Sayers.

“Because I told her not to tell you anything," Hannah manages as her brains feels like it’s trying to crawl out of her cranium.

“Why would you do that? WHY?”

“Because of the time at the pond! Because obviously I disgust you!”

Mrs. Sayers excuses herself from the room and closes the door as much as possible behind her. It isn’t proper to leave the two of them alone but she’s in no frame of mind to deal with an angry Bondurant.

“Why would you say that?” Forrest’s tone is gentler now, sort of confused sounding as well.

“Oh come on Forrest, I may be young and stupid but I know what it feels like when someone is done with you. I threw myself at you and now you know I’m nothing but the same kind of trash that I came from.”

Hannah feels the edge of the bed indent from his weight as Forrest sits.

“Look at me,” Forrest coaxes and Hannah refuses. His finger lands softly under her chin and he turns her to face him. “Hannah, I am not at all disgusted by you. I think about you all the time. You’re all I think about to be honest. But you’re better than the likes of me and I won’t be the one to clip your wings.”

Hannah stares at his face, at the gentle look he wears now but she doesn’t believe a word of it. She blew it with him and she has no one to blame but herself.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is like sugar, trying to comfort her and its working. She’ll take anything over the cold way he’d addressed her at the pond.

“I don’t know Forrest,” she whimpers as her head pulses harder with the onset of might be her first migraine. “All I know is that he spoke with a funny accent and he smelled like cheap whiskey and smoke.”

Forrest moves closer to Hannah, leaning back beside her on the headboard and then gently pulling her into his arms. She doesn’t resist as he pulls her head into his chest and gently strokes her hair. The feel of his touch and the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear has her relaxed and sliding into the darkness of sleep in little time.

Forrest watches the rise and fall of her chest and feels more at peace once he knows she’s asleep. He has a better than good idea of who attacked his Hannah and he’s already plotting his vengeance.

 _His Hannah_ … it ain’t right to think of her that way but he can’t help it. She’d all but torn the heart of out him when she said he was disgusted by her. He’d been in a state of aroused confusion since the pond. The whole thing had been electric and he hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind. He’d constantly alternated between worry and wanting to come to town and claim her once and for all.

He couldn’t let those ideas cloud his mind yet. He had something to take care of now.

Sliding from beneath her he places her head gently on the pillow and leans in to kiss her. Electricity flows from her as their lips meet and he groans roughly at the ache that comes with it.

What heaven would it be to join his body with hers, to quench the fire that surges through him burning hotter than any shine he’d ever tasted?

Hannah moans at the contact and his name escapes her lips like a whimper. “Don’t go…”

Her body rises up to meet his and he shivers as he’s closer to losing himself in her, inside of her.

No, not this way… he knows she’s sedated and it wouldn’t be right.

“Forrest I need you to… it almost hurts I want you so bad.”

Her words a slurred but said with such a pleading it breaks him.

“What can I do Hannah? I can’t take your innocence, not like this.”

His eyes roll back as he watches her hands go up underneath her gown; he knows she’s touching the place he’s spent so much time dreaming about.

“I want you so bad,” Hannah moans and her hands lift the gown. “I need you…”

Forrest looks down at the bright pink of the underthings she’s wearing. He can’t stop his rough breathing as he thinks about the fact that there is only a thin layer of satin between him and what he craves.

“Hannah… promise me you won’t regret this,” he growls and then waits for her consent before pulling the panties down. Staring at the soft, downy patch of hair he closes his eyes before lowering his mouth to her skin. He kisses all around the center, making her squirm as he teases. He knows what to do but takes his time. He wants to remember this forever. He can’t fuck her, not in good conscience, but he can give her some relief.

Thick fingers part her lips and his tongue brushes lightly against her center. He body jerks like it’s been shocked and without hesitation he takes that most sensitive part into his mouth, sucking gently. Her moan sends his mouth into overdrive and soon her hips are lifting off the mattress to seek something harder… faster. Hannah’s crying out now, his name spills over and over through her lips and he can feel the tremble of her body reaching the peak under his lips and tongue.

 _Hannah’s gonna come all over my face_ , he thinks. Before another thought is processed he feels his cock react. The taste of her, the sweet honey of her on his face is enough to send him into an orgasm of his own. Her fingers press the back of his head, urging him to suck harder. But it’s the flicking of his tongue across her nub that gives her the release she’d been begging for.

“Forrest… Forrest…” His name in her voice is sacred and he knows there’s no use in fighting it. She’ll be his, just as soon as he gets vengeance for her.

Taking care to lick her clean, savoring the taste of her innocence before he takes it, she sets her gown to rights and tucks her into the covers. She smiles lazily up at him and then turns serious.

“Please don’t regret this…”

“Never, my Hannah. I love you and I’ll be back for you.”

Hannah can’t keep her eyes open any more but she hears the sound of Forrest closing the broken door as best he can.

 _I’m his_ , she thinks as the bliss of medication and the experience of what Forrest had done for her takes over.


End file.
